Heartbreak and Betrayal in One Act

The other night I took in a play,
the only patron in a packed house.

On a balcony all too familiar,
still echoing with resounding
"Call me but love"s
and roses, by any other name,
I watched a blossoming young
actress dance around her part
on cat burglar’s heels,
threatening to steal the show.

She spoke to me in soliloquy,
casually unfolding her soul
as if it were the evening paper.

At the curtain call,
I was all standing ovations,
but the star never returned to bow;

she was already working on an encore,
with another audience entirely.